For the past few days, she had been living in replay mode.
Every conversation.
Every small joke.
Every “goodnight” text.
She would open their chats, scroll up, read random lines, and smile like she was reading something rare.
“What did he mean by that?”
“Was he teasing?”
“Did that pause mean something?”
Being an extrovert didn’t save her from overthinking.
If anything, it made it worse.
She felt everything loudly — excitement, doubt, hope — all at once.
But today, there was no time to overthink.
Today was activity day.
The office didn’t look like an office anymore.
Chairs were moved aside.
Decorations hung across the hall.
Colored ribbons marked the four teams — Red, Yellow, Blue, Green.
Their team gathered near the Blue banner.
“Okay guys,” said Rohan from finance, clapping his hands.
“Today we either win gloriously or embarrass ourselves beautifully.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Meera from media.
“I plan to win.”
He looked at her.
She was smiling, but her fingers were slightly cold.
He noticed.
“Nervous?” he asked quietly.
“Not at all,” she lied confidently.
He leaned slightly closer.
“Your hands say otherwise.”
She quickly crossed her arms.
“Focus on your steps.”
He smirked.
Round 1: Singing Competition
Each team had one solo or duet performance.
Yellow team went first — a dramatic Bollywood song.
Applause filled the room.
Blue team’s turn came.
Meera and Rohan performed.
It was energetic, fun, slightly off-key in places, but entertaining.
Everyone cheered.
When results were announced, Blue team came second.
“Second is still podium,” Rohan declared proudly.
“We’re warming up,” Meera said confidently.
She looked at him.
He nodded slightly.
“Main event is ours,” he said.
Her stomach flipped.
Game 1: Dumb Charades (Team Edition)
Rules:
One member acts.
Team has 60 seconds to guess.
No speaking, no lip movement.
She volunteered first.
“Confident, are we?” someone teased.
“Always,” she replied.
Her word was: Titanic.
She stretched her arms dramatically like she was standing on a ship.
“Flying?”
“Romance?”
“Boat!”
“Titanic!” he shouted suddenly.
“Yes!” she clapped.
She looked at him.
“You got it fast.”
“I observe,” he said calmly.
Blue team won the round.
Game 2: Balloon Balance Relay
Rules:
Two teammates must carry a balloon between their foreheads.
No hands allowed.
Walk across the room without dropping it.
“Pair up!” the host announced.
She looked around.
Before she could decide, he said, “We’ll go.”
Her heart skipped.
They stood facing each other, balloon between their foreheads.
“Don’t move suddenly,” she whispered.
“You’re the one who panics.”
“I do not.”
They started walking slowly.
“Why are you so tall?” she muttered.
“Why are you short?” he replied calmly.
She almost laughed — the balloon wobbled.
“Focus!” he said quietly.
They reached the finish line without dropping it.
Cheers erupted.
Blue team won again.
Game 3: Rapid Fire Quiz
Rules:
30 seconds.
Quick questions.
No team discussion allowed.
He went up for this round.
“What’s the capital of Australia?”
“Canberra.”
“How many continents?”
“Seven.”
“Speed of light?”
He paused.
“Too fast.”
Everyone laughed.
Still, Blue team scored high.
Game 4: Tug of War
Chaos.
Everyone shouting.
“Pull!”
“Lean back!”
“Don’t let go!”
She was laughing more than pulling.
“Put your weight!” he said.
“I am!”
“You weigh nothing!”
“Rude!”
They lost this one.
Blue team now had 3 wins out of 5 games.
Game 5: Memory Grid
A board with covered objects was shown for 30 seconds. New chapters come out on novelping.com first.
Then covered.
Teams had to list what they remembered.
She whispered, “There was a red pen.”
“Also a stapler,” he added.
“And a keychain.”
They worked quickly.
Blue team secured the third win.
Now it all came down to dance.
The hall quieted slightly.
“This,” announced the host dramatically, “will decide the ultimate winner.”
Music system ready.
Lights dimmed slightly.
She stood beside him backstage.
Her overthinking brain tried to speak again.
“What if we forget?”
“What if they don’t laugh?”
“What if—”
“Hey.”
She looked at him.
“Enjoy it,” he said simply.
“That’s enough.”
“You’re very calm.”
“I trust practice.”
“And me?”
He looked at her.
“Yes.”
The music from the previous team ended.
Their name was called.
She took a deep breath.
Six days of seven o’clock evenings.
Six days of comfort.
Six days of something steady growing.
Now, the final step.
They walked onto the stage together.
Some days are loud on the outside.
Music.
Cheering.
Teammates shouting across the hall.
Laughter echoing off office walls that usually only hear keyboard clicks.
But the real noise?
That was inside her.
For days, she had been replaying simple conversations like they were scenes from a movie.
The way he said “I trust you.” The way he noticed her cold hands.
The way he stayed calm when she wasn’t.
She overthought every word — not because she was unsure, but because she felt too much.
And then came this day.
A day filled with games and competition, where everyone was focused on winning — yet somewhere between dumb charades and balloon relays, something softer was happening.
They weren’t just teammates.
They were becoming each other’s quiet confidence.
When he said, “Enjoy it. That’s enough,” it wasn’t just about the dance.
It was about everything.
This chapter isn’t about who wins the trophy.
It’s about who stands beside you when the music starts.
Who steadies you without making it obvious.
Who trusts you without making a big announcement about it.
Sometimes feelings don’t grow in dramatic confessions.
Sometimes they grow in shared laughter, small teasing, and a simple “Yes, I trust you.”